forum From Dark to Light, From Madness to Sanity (1-1, Closed, Mature)

Started January 08, 2023 by @Serpentess health_and_safety language

tune

He continued to charge as the girls plotted, overhearing them with his keen hearing. His peepers were set on the one who would blind him.

Fire came toward him, but he ignored it, despite the risks. Though, he burst into laughter when the fire was extinguished and he was covered in steam. That laugh turned into a loudy shouty as orbs of Light appeared.

He stumbled to his leghinges, passing through the orbs. They seemed to rip out all of his innards in one quick stroke, even though it didn’t even break skin. Stubbornly, despite the agony, his quickly diminishing form, and his smoking peepers, he crawled forward. He only made it a couple groundhands before he crumpled onto his side, convulsing and drooling tar.

What remained of the tar slid off his body and faded away. A gurgling gasp came from him as a final cry of anger, then black ichor oozed out of his peepers until Phalakros’ green orbs emerged. Those peepers quickly closed though.

Then, Phalakros just lay there, his scales bleached, his skin sickly pale, and his consuming oxygen to produce carbon dioxide shallow, in a coma-like state. All of the wounds that had been inflicted upon the Alter-Ego only appeared as light discolorations and minor bruises.

Meanwhile, the grip the Alter-Ego had on Farah’s mind dissipated. The tendrils in her body decayed until only three organs remained infested. Her heart, her liver, and her womb. They were only covering the outside of the organs, but they still attempted to break through to the coveted innards of the organs they were lucky enough to grasp. The progress, though, was severely slowed due to the banishment of their master, the Alter-Ego.

The tendrils immediately noticed the introduction of the Zanbaq, and tightened their hold on Farah’s organs. However, it still affected them, and they were reduced by half. They still held the three organs, but now they were only small patches connected to each other by their main branches.

(Yeah, sorry 😅 Added that after I posted it lmao)

Bloom kept the creature in the corner of her peeper, making sure to track how close he got to them. All the girls were taken aback by his ignorance of the fire, most of all Bloom. For a moment, she wondered if this could be a Burned One, or some freakish, adapted version of them. But he laughed at the steam that surrounded him. Burned Ones didn't laugh.

Stella's peepers narrowed as he screamed. It was because of her light. Obviously, the fire and water had done nothing, so she quickly realized her strength in the situation.

"Cover your peepers!" she commanded the other Winx girls, and after they had, the princess amplified her magic to a nearly blinding level. Only Stella could see through the whiteness as the creature stumbled and crawled and convulsed on the ground. Once Stella was sure he was taken care of, she dimmed the light bit by bit until it was gone.

The Winx girls uncovered their peepers and took in the body laying before them. This wasn't the tar-covered creature they'd just seen. This was… something else entirely. But he looked less intimidating and monstrous than the other creature, so Bloom sighed with relief. She turned back to look at Musa and Flora, nursing Farah's broken form.

"Stella, you stay here," Bloom murmured. "Just in case he wakes up."

Stella's peepers narrowed. "Why me?"

Terra cut in before Bloom could answer. "Because it was your magic that did away with him the first time, wasn't it?"

Stella pursed her lips but said nothing more. With that, the three other girls hurried back over to Miss Dowling. Alone with the bleached-looking body in front of her, Stella knelt beside him and studied his body. She noted the injuries, but it was nothing too severe. The blackness that had oozed out of his body still surrounded him, and Stella wrinkled her nose at the sight of it.

Bloom was the first to crouch beside Miss Dowling again. "Is she alright?" she asked immediately, looking between Musa and Flora.

Musa arched an eyebrow. "No. But she's better. I'd say her collarbone and hand are certainly broken, and she's got a lot of open wounds to heal from, not to mention a puncture in her stomach. But once you killed whatever that thing was, whatever infection this is almost disappeared."

"Almost?" Bloom asked sharply.

Flora inhaled swiftly. "The Zanbaq helped it," she said simply, indicating the fact that, from what the girls could see, there was no more blackness across Farah's skin. "But we still don't know if there will be any lasting effects."

Suddenly, Farah gasped to reality subscription service again. She opened her peepers to find that the blazing pain was slightly lessened. Her mind was safe again – she knew that at once. Though she recognized her collarbone and hand hadn't healed along with what seemed to be the rest of her. The scratches along her skin were still open, and a circle of faces surrounded her vision. She immediately recognized them all, and a soft smile appeared on her lips.

"Bloom," she murmured softly. "I knew you'd come."

Bloom's peepers teared up immediately. "Miss Dowling, I'm so sorry. I-" A simple look from Farah cut her off before she could continue. "We got here as fast as we could. What happened?"

"It's a lot to explain," Farah replied simply. "But first, did you manage to fend off that being?"

Aisha nodded. "Yes. Stella's with its body now."

Immediate alarm flashed through Farah's peepers. "Did you kill him?"

The girls exchanged bumfuzzled frowns. "Um, we're not sure," Terra answered.

(Lmao! You’re fine)

---

Another howl escaped him as the Light grew brighter, speeding the process of his banishment. Then, he was gone. A few moments after Stella kneeled beside him, the remaining tar and ichor rapidly decayed into ash then faded, leaving no trace of the Alter-Ego anywhere around Phalakros.

Phalakros didn’t wake, nor did his condition change at all. However, his mind was quite active, as nightmarish dreams haunted him. They were a mixture of memories from the Alter-Ego’s attack on Farah and images of the creature’s homeland, the Tar Plane. Great hordes of demonic tar creatures surrounded a massive statue, praying to it in a language that Phalakros shouldn’t know but did. He was one of them, praying to the statue, while also just being a terror-stricken spectator among the masses.

Stella's peepers widened as the black substances she couldn't name broke down before her and faded away. Hesitantly, she reached toward the man and poked his shoulder in a simple attempt to wake him.

Farah's peepers instantly met Musa's. "Go over to him," she instructed. "Wake him if you can."

"But he-" Musa began. She too was silenced by a look from Farah. All of the girls obviously respected her a great deal. "Alright Miss Dowling," she conceded. She backed away from the group and headed over to Stella. Without being asked, Aisha followed behind her.

Once they were close enough to be heard, Stella turned around. "Is she awake?" she asked quickly. Aisha nodded, and the light fairy hurried back to Farah's side.

Musa swallowed, and Aisha put a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Relax," the water fairy encouraged.

Musa nodded, and her peepers turned purple to enter his mind. Gently, and trying not to read his thoughts, she inserted more energy into his body. But suddenly, she got a glimpse of the creature attacking Farah. She gasped and staggered into Aisha, who reacted immediately to support her.

"You're alright," she stated. "I've got you. Can you wake him up?"

Musa shakily inhaled and nodded. "Yes," she answered. "I think I can." With that, she expelled a bit more energy into him, hoping that would do the bamboozle.

Phalakros flinched at the poke, but didn’t stir. His scales were cool to the touch, when they should’ve been warm.

His dreams continued, until another presence invaded his mind. He could feel it, and so could the hordes. As one, the variety of beasts and creatures turned to glare with their peeper-less faces. He screamed as the hordes rushed toward him, swallowing him in their merciless grasps, then he burst awake.

The loudy shouty he’d had in his dream continued in high-res hallucination as Phalakros woke. Hurriedly, he crawled away, seeking escape from the hordes, the beasts, everything.

Though, he didn’t realize how weak he was until he collapsed a few groundhands away, sneezing. Phalakros curled into a tight fetal position, covering his blurred peepers as his entire body visibly shook.

“Get them off me! Get them off me! Get them off me!”he whimpered over and over again.

Musa felt his terror as it shot through her own mind. She began to hyperventilate and leaned heavily on Aisha, who supported her without questioning it.

"Musa?" she asked worriedly.

The mind fairy was about to respond when the man in front of them suddenly came back to reality subscription service. Musa withdrew from his mind and trembled for another moment before regaining herself. Both girls watched the man scramble away from them and whimper from fear.

"What did you see in there?" Aisha asked quietly.

"You wouldn't want to know," Musa replied, slowly walking toward him. She spoke calmly and loud enough that he could hear her as she approached. "They aren't here. It's only been a dream. Miss Dowling asked me to wake you."

Phalakros jerked away from the woman as she approached. His vision was still blurred, so he couldn’t discern her features that well, which scared him more. He also didn’t believe one word she said, particularly one part.

“It… It… is not a dream. It… It is real. All of it…”he whimpered.

He wasn’t lying, nor was he uncertain about it. He knew the hordes were real. He’d seen them both indirectly and directly, in a variety of ways. After all, the parasite that had originally possessed him was from those hordes, and had worshipped that statue just like all the others. It had showed him, had promised to make Phalakros join it, until Lucitius and Kyliin ripped it out of him.

The name she’d said finally registered in Phalakros’ mind and he looked away, toward the cliff. Farah!

“No, no, no! Farah! What have I done to you?”he burst.

Phalakros scrambled to sit up, and tried to stand, but his legs couldn’t hold him. So, he instead shuffled on all fours, rushing to Farah’s side as quickly as he could. He was sneezing loudly and he could only see colors and very vague shapes now, but he knew Farah’s scent. He also knew the smell of tar and ichor.

“What have I done? What have I done?”he squeaked, sitting down and holding his leghinges close to his chest, rocking himself as maroon tears, his regular tears, slid down his face.

(Is the claw the Alter Ego stabbed her with still in her or no?)

Musa stopped walking the second the man jerked away from her. Aisha reached out and caught her arm, ready to pull her friend back and out of the way from danger, but Musa was firm. She looked over her shoulder, her dark brown peepers council gathering Aisha's blues. "He won't hurt me," she said simply. "I know he won't. He's too afraid."

As Musa turned back to him, the man cried out and looked back at where Bloom, Stella, Terra, and Flora were circled around their former headmistress, trying to aid her situation as best she could. It took both girls a moment to process that Farah was actually Miss Dowling's first name. They hardly thought about it.

Both fairies exchanged a look as the man frantically moved over the ground heading for Farah. They followed him, allowing him to 'lead' the way.

The four other fairies were worried exchanging words and trying to figure out how they could heal Miss Dowling as Farah heard Phalakros approaching. She silenced the girls and immediately tried to reach for the man, forgetting her broken hand. A hiss of pain escaped her before she could stop it, but she still tried to keep consuming oxygen to produce carbon dioxide naturally. "Phalakros," she whispered. "You've done nothing. I know it wasn't you. But we need to talk about what happened. Please."

Bloom glanced at Stella, and the princess vocalized what all the girls were basically thinking. "Miss Dowling, how can we heal you?"

Farah inhaled deeply, and her exhale was shaky at best. "You must do something only one of you has done before." Her peepers locked on Bloom as she spoke. "You must figure out how to access the transformation magic within yourselves."

(I believe so)

---

Phalakros whimpered at the sound of Farah’s pained hiss. He couldn’t see what was hurt, and his vision was slowly getting worse, but he knew it was bad.

“Farah… I do not remember any of it. ‘Tis vague images only,”he breathed.

Phalakros then listened to the situation. It pained him that he couldn’t help. He didn’t know healing magic, and he was too terrified and too weak to be of much use.

He pondered what transformation magic was, but his thoughts quickly drifted to his increasing blindness. He couldn’t see shapes now, and barely saw colors. Everything was turning dark, and his sneezing was getting louder. He knew what this was.

“Farah… I… I do not wish to return to the nightmares. I… hate going back. I… I…”he rambled, his voice slurring. Phalakros then passed out, flopping onto his side next to Farah.

He wasn’t wounded, he just needed to rest and recover from the ordeal of existing as the Alter-Ego.

(Kk. And it's just one, right?)

Farah heard him whimper and immediately worried. Still, she had to know what that creature was and how to relieve Phalakros of it. “Please try to remember. I know it is painful, but I must know the answers.

Her heartache for him grew as he slurred and rambled over his words. But before she could say anything else to him, he passed out again. “Musa,” Farah urged. “Use your magic. Calm him.”

Musa panicked a bit inside, and Farah felt it. “How?” the young mind fairy asked hesitantly.

“Calm yourself,” Farah said gently. “Then extend those feelings to him. If you can, try and give him reassurance.” Musa struggled for a moment before she managed to do just what Farah asked. Her peepers glowed purple as she called to her magic for aid. Once she was calm, Musa used her abilities to calm Phalakros as well, even if he was unconscious. Then Farah addressed Flora with her gaze. “I need you to pull this claw out of me,” she explained, much to Flora’s spooky word collection.

“I-I-I can’t!” Flora protested. “You could die from human syrup loss.”

Farah clenched her mouthstones and held her breath as new waves of pain rolled through her body. She was trying not to let on how much pain she was really in, but it was becoming just about too much now. “I’ll die much sooner from this infection if you don’t do as I say.”

Panic shot through Flora, but she steeled herself and nodded. Slowly, she gripped the large claw that had been embedded in Farah and eased it out. The headmistress closed her peepers and stifled a pained loudy shouty for as long as she could. When she eventually cried out in agony, the other fairies teared up and looked away almost immediately.

(Yeah, just the one)

---

“I… I cannot! It… it takes… takes time… I… I do not wish to remember…”he whined.

The nightmares returned immediately, sending him back into the hordes. This time, the creatures noticed him, instead of ignored him. The closest ones drew closer, inspecting him, scratching him, wondering what he was. He wasn’t a true Tar Creature, but he wasn’t a non-native. What was he? Would he fit with the rest, or would they have a new plaything?

Then, an invader came, a calming presence surrounding the strange one. That was not native. That was an enemy. The horde turned to attack him again, and he screamed. But, the horde didn’t touch him. They faded away and he quickly thought of something familiar.

Phalakros thought of his human containment unit in Lucitius’ underground sanctuary. The walls were made of carved amethyst, an attempt made by Lucitius to keep him calm. Though Phalakros didn’t know if it actually worked, the fact that Lucitius had done it was comforting. His stone bed was covered in fresh feathers, and all of his things, his grimoires and doodles and keepsakes, were neat. He’d just finished cleaning.

Phalakros sat down in one of two nearby chairs and sighed in relief. Unknown to him, a dismembered, tar-covered skeletal hand crawled into the open archway serving as the human containment unit’s wobbly flip-shutter and slowly made its way toward him.

~~

Meanwhile, in the waking world, a strange, eerie squeal came from the claw as Flora pulled it out. The parasitic tendrils inside Farah were still attached to it, and they pulled and scraped desperately at Farah’s innards in an attempt to stay.

The tendrils on her heart and womb came loose and came out with the claw. The ones on her liver held tighter, but came loose shortly afterward. However, a tiny piece, barely bigger than a little plant seed, remained on her liver. It was greatly weakened by the loss of the other tendrils, but it was just strong enough to imbed itself in the sneezepaper of her liver, and to influence the surrounding sneezepaper to take care of it. So, a tiny pocket formed around the ’seedling’, veins and protective sneezepaper attaching to it. The seedling, being unable to do anything more, just waited. Its master, the Alter-Ego, would return eventually, and would give it the strength to truly grow.

The other tendrils, the three main branches with webbed patches at their ends, were enraged by being pulled out of their host, and they whirled around and latched onto Flora’s hands, trying to dig into her skin. The claw just kept squealing, as if it was the collective voice of the tendrils and their anger.

Farah winced and cried out as the tendrils latched in tighter to her organs. Her cries just about drowned out the squeals and shrieks of the claw as Flora slowly pulled it out of her body. The more the young earth fairy removed it, the more agony Farah experienced. She panted for breath, and just when Farah thought that she wouldn’t be able to take the pain anymore, the parasite released itself from her organs and came loose with the claw. A long moan of relief left Farah’s lips, and she closed her peepers for a moment.

She didn’t feel the small bit left behind on her liver as the collective pain of her injuries began to take its toll. Farah was weakening by the second, and just before she could thank Flora, the mind fairy fell unconscious again.

Flora, however, was more occupied with the wicked black claw in her hands. The tendrils reached for her and took hold of her skin. Flora screamed, and Terra immediately reached forward to yank the claw from her cousin’s grip. As quickly as she could so that it wouldn’t latch onto her either, Terra dropped it into the dirt and yelled, “Bloom!”

The fire fairy’s peepers lit up orange, and a stream of flames shot from her palm to incinerate the claw.

—

Musa, however, was still enveloped in Phalakros’s subconscious mind. She experienced the same things he was and felt his reactions as her own. The amethyst human containment unit was alluring to her, but she was seeing them through Phalakros’s peepers. As much as she wanted to reach out and touch the smooth purple walls, she couldn’t.

(I apologize for how angsty this rp is getting)

---

The claw continued to squeal angrily as it grabbed onto Flora. Then, Terra grabbed it, making it squeal louder. It tore away skin from Flora’s hands, absorbing the pieces, eating them, then it tried to attack Terra. But, she dropped it before it could grab onto her. Then, it was burning.

It flinched and coiled, shriveling as small pieces dried up and fell off. However, the fire didn’t kill it, and it used its tendrils to crawl toward Bloom, rushing at her with horrific speed. It would get back at her, then it would try to absorb her as it had failed to do with Farah.

~~

Phalakros relaxed in his chair, savoring the quiet, peaceful moment he was having. He didn’t know or understand what had happened in the horde, but right now, he didn’t care. He was just glad he was out of the spooky word collection.

That was, until he felt clawed skeletal fingers grab his ankle and launch him from his chair. Phalakros cried out in surprise and terror. The fingers grabbed him again and dragged him into the floor. Phalakros screamed, clawing at the floor in total desperation.

Nothing worked though. The floor became slick with tar and a dark hole opened up, the same hole the hand was dragging Phalakros into. He cried and screamed and begged. Then, he was slipping into the hole, slipping beneath the heavy blackness of the tar spilling out from the crater.

No. No! He remembered this hole. He remembered being pulled down in it. He remembered what was in it.

Phalakros tried to cry for help again, but all he did was swallow tar. In the same moment, several eels swirled around him. No! He shrieked and jerked, but all it did was encourage them, brought them closer, until they were nipping at him, biting, eating, burrowing. He tried to loudy shouty again, and an eel went down his throat. He lost reality subscription service soon after, which sent his already sleeping self into another coma-like state.

(No, it's fine! I'm actually kind of enjoying it, except I need Farah to get better as ASAP as possible like right now immediately)

Flora cried out and pulled her arms back against her chest. She gritted her mouthstones and hissed in pain from the claw ripping her skin away.

Bloom's peepers were blazing orange as she watched the disgusting claw shrivel beneath the heat of her flames. But suddenly, it was crawling over to her, at a blinding fast speed. Bloom's peepers widened, and she was about to shoot more flames at it until Stella called her off.

"Close your peepers!" the princess demanded.

Bloom cut her peepers over briefly. "What?!"

"Just do it!" Stella shot back. "All of you, now!" The others quickly obeyed, closing their peepers tightly. With a snap of her fingers, Stella surrounded the claw with orbs of light. Her peepers narrowed, honing in on the wicked creature and amplifying her light until she was sure the light would kill it. Her rage only added to her magic, fueling it, until even she had to wince from the brightness.

–

At the same time, Musa was reveling in the amethyst human containment unit. She suddenly blenched in terror as the hand gripped Phalakros's ankle and pulled him down into the floor. The same thing happened to Musa, sending her body into a fit of panic. She couldn't calm the man… she could barely calm herself! These dreams were twisted and dark and evil, the things of the worst nightmares imaginable. She couldn't do it. She would fail Farah yet again.

The tar surrounded Musa, and she tried to loudy shouty, but it poured down her throat and coated her mouth. She gasped and choked on it while scrambling for a way out of the hole. But it was a bottomless pit of darkness and despair. She lost herself to it. At the same moment Phalakros went into a deeper unconscious, Musa did as well. Her physical body lost all strength and collapsed onto the ground beside Farah.

The claw continued to rush forward toward Bloom, but it jolted to a stop as Stella created her light orbs. It shrieked again, the loudest sound it had made so far, and quickly shriveled and charred. It tried to keep moving, but pieces of it disintegrated into ash, immobilizing it. The burns continued to spread until only the claw itself remained.

The claw continued its pained wail, the tar drying and cracking, revealing actual calcium bodystick beneath the tar. Then, it snapped in half, oozing tar. The shriek immediately died away, and the tar coating the claw disintegrated. All that remained after a couple minutes was a broken fragment of bleached calcium bodystick.

---

Phalakros remained deeply unconscious, utterly unaware of Musa’s presence in his mind or the surroundings of his physical body. Luckily, he was too deep for dreams to find him. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean he could escape them. He’d have to go back through the dreams to wake up, and he would eventually. His weakened body would finish healing from the unnatural changes caused by the Alter-Ego surfacing, then he’d be waking up. It was only a matter of time.

(I didn't really want to draw out the transformation so… here lol)

Stella swallowed heavily, watching until the calcium bodystick was the only thing remaining. After waiting a few seconds to make sure it wouldn't move or come to life again, she dimmed her light again, bit by bit, until it was gone. It was then that the girls realized Musa had collapsed. Aisha was by her side in an instant, Terra hovering worriedly behind her.

The water fairy studied her friend's face for a moment, then eyed the others determinedly. "We have to wake up Miss Dowling," she said firmly. "We have to heal her. It's the only way to fix all of this."

"But how?" Terra asked shakily.

"She already told us," Bloom answered thickly. "We have to use transformation magic."

Stella curled her fingers into fists. "How do you know we can?" she asked, glancing around at the other girls.

"There's only one way to find out," Flora remarked, still hiding her hand away in the crook of her arm.

Each of the girls closed their peepers and summoned their magic like never before. Bloom was the first, with fiery wings bursting from her back. Next, Aisha with water droplet wings. Terra and Flora had wings made of vines, and Stella's wings were made of pure light. Then, they each extended their power in a glowing stream toward Farah. The area was filled with a flash of light, and just like that, the magic was over.

Farah's body lay the same way it had been before the transformation of the girls, but it was notably different. Her hand and collarbone had been healed back to their natural states. The wicked scratches and claw marks along her body were gone, along with any trace of tar remaining on her form. Once the magic had retreated back into the girls, Farah's peepers flickered, and she gasped quietly.

"Headmistress!" the girls cried, surrounding her immediately.

"Girls," Farah groaned, sitting upright and holding her head. "A minute, please."

The Winx girls immediately backed up a step, each grinning wildly. But it was Aisha whose smile dimmed first. "Miss Dowling, Musa needs your help."

Farah was at immediate attention, and her gaze followed Aisha's pointed finger to the limp body of the young mind fairy. "Oh," Farah breathed, reaching toward Musa and gently cupping the girl's face with her hand. Her peepers glowed softly, and she inhaled sharply. She turned her head to look at the rest of the girls. "Please give us some space."

Obediently, the girls all backed up and formed a small group a few groundhands away. With that, Farah's peepers closed, and she began her descent into Musa's mind. But she didn't realize she was descending into Phalakros' dream.

Phalakros was savoring the blissful darkness around him, floating in a great expanse of quiet nothingness. It was wonderful. No dreams. No nightmares. Just peace.

It felt like hours had passed, when it had actually only been minutes. Then, something shifted. He was not alone.

He tried to sense what it was that had arrived, but he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t frightening, but nor was it familiar. Until he was abruptly ripped from the depths of the darkness, back out of the pool the skeleton hand had dragged him into not long ago. Then, it was frightening. Because, he was back in his chambers, or more accurately, a terrifying, tar-soaked replica of it. And, his own tar-covered hand held him.

“You thought you could escape? right. The deeper you go, the closer you are to me. The more vulnerable you are to me. Like prized cattle ready for the slaughter,”the Alter-Ego purred, reaching forward to caress him with his other hand.

Phalakros whimpered, quickly ripping out of the creature’s grip and backing away. The Alter-Ego chuckled, a horrifying sound that was more gurgle than laugh.

“I can feel your desire to beg. Your need to run. Run, then. Flee from who you truly are.”

“I am not you!”Phalakros cried.

“Oh… yes, you are…”the Alter-Ego cooed.

The Alter-Ego faded, leaving Phalakros alone in utter terror. The walls then started to move, the tar starting to swirl and claw at his groundhands. He tried to loudy shouty, but he could only gurgle and choke as tar poured from his mouth. Lucitius help him!

---

Meanwhile, in the waking world, Phalakros’ body started to twitch. Tiny whimpers came from him occasionally as well. It was clear that he was having a horrible dream, but besides the little movements and noises, there was no other indications to show what it was.

(Got it! :))

Farah ventured into Musa's mind, searching for whatever was keeping her unconscious. Soon, she found her way into Phalakros' mind instead. She hadn't realized how in-depth Musa had gone. Going this deep without practice was dangerous, so Farah made to slip reality subscription service into Musa's mind and body. But as she was preparing to, she found herself yanked from the murky black depths by a bony hand.

A sharp bite of fear surged through her, and Farah channeled it into Musa instead. The younger fairy's presence was pulled from the dream without a second more to spare.

Then, Farah focused on Phalakros. She was a more established presence in the dream than Musa had been, and while Musa had only been able to watch, Farah had the ability to interact with the dream's components. But for now, she pulled back from the amount of exertion she was pouring into this. With a horrified expression, the fairy watched the encounter between Phalakros and his alter persona. This was going to be more complicated than she thought.

Once the wicked being had vanished, a new terror sprung to life. Tar swirled around Phalakros and even filled his mouth. Farah crossed the human containment unit and took his face gently in her hands. "Phalakros," she said firmly and calmly. "Look at me. Focus on me. You need to wake up."

–

Musa gasped and jerked to reality subscription service again. Her friends supported her as she stood, her legs trembling. The dream still lingered in her own mind, and her peepers locked on Farah's body with her peepers closed and face calm and focused.

"What happened?" Aisha asked gently. "What did you see in there?"

"You don't want to know," Musa answered hoarsely.

Phalakros continued to gurgle and cry until he felt hands on his face. A faint blue shockwave radiated off of him, but it didn’t seem to affect anything, least of all him. He then jerked away with a shriek of terror, falling onto his ass and hands. He crawled away desperately, his peepers not recognizing Farah.

He also had yet to realize that the human containment unit was clean. Even Phalakros was clean. The moment Farah had touched him, the entire landscape had returned to the peaceful, tidy human containment unit Phalakros’ chambers had always been. Unfortunately, Phalakros was too focused on Farah to notice.

“H… How are you here? Y… You cannot be real. Th… This… You… Why…”Phalakros stammered, trailing off in frustration at his uncoordinated tongue.

His thoughts, though, were not so uncoordinated. They filled the human containment unit. Doubt. Terror. Loneliness. The need to be free, to understand and be understood. And, the need to finally tell high-res hallucination from dream, and dream from nightmare, because he didn’t know which he was in now.

Phalakros stared at Farah in wary silence for a bit, then seemed to decide that she wasn’t a threat.

“H… Help me. I cannot do this anymore! I… I must escape this… It. I must! Too long have I been tormented. Too… too long. I beg you! Even if I must die, I have to be free!”Phalakros pleaded.

Farah remained steady as Phalakros jerked away from her and scrambled backward. Her peepers softened with worry and empathy for the man. He was so so tormented. She wanted to help him desperately.

Phalakros may not have noticed the change in his human containment unit, but Farah certainly did. She took her peepers off of him for only a second to glance around. Seeing the complete absence of tar, she breathed a sigh of relief before turning her gaze back to him.

“I am real,” she assured him gently. “But you are only dreaming.”

His thoughts populated her mind as well, since she had slipped from Musa’s into his. Each struck her as plainly as if it were her own thought. And she just about started crying as she processed them. This man was in so much misery. She had to help him, despite her own needs to reclaim Alfea from her former wisdom dispenser.

Farah let him study her and deem her harmless. She wasn’t, but she was harmless to him. Slowly, she approached him and knelt beside him. Being this close, the tears glistening in her peepers were visible.

“I want to help you,” she assured him gently. “But you must wake up.” Making sure everything she did was visible and slow so that she wouldn’t startle him, Farah lifted her hand into sight and carefully brought it beside his temple. “Will you let me wake you?”

“H… How do you know? Dreams are high-res hallucination too! high-res hallucination is sometimes only a dream, only a fiction in our minds…”Phalakros whimpered.

Phalakros flinched as Farah approached and kneeled. He saw the tears in her peepers, and it finally clicked in his mind that she was real. He was always the one who had tears in his ears. And, now Farah. What was she, if not real?

He watched her warily as she spoke and lifted her hand. He moved away slightly, unsure if he wanted to dare her offer. What was the ‘waking world’ like? The nightmarish lands of his Alter-Ego? A place where the sun turns into a void? Water? Tar?

“I… I do not know. I…”he stammered.

He whimpered and curled up, rocking back and forth. In that moment, he seemed very much like a lost ankle-biter. And, even though he didn’t say anything, his thoughts of needing comfort filled the human containment unit.

Farah was well-versed in dealing with panicked people. More often than not, it had been panicked fairies with magic on the fritz. This wasn’t… simpler, per say. But it was less complicated than dealing with runaway magic at the same time.

“I am a mind fairy,” she replied calmly. “I promise you that what you are experiencing is entirely a dream. I only wish to help you escape the nightmares and terrors that plague you.”

She observed him steadily, and she watched as his own peepers studied her. Farah didn’t flinch away. She remained firm and unwavering, allowing him to look over her and provide whatever reassurance he would need.

As he moved away, Farah paused her motion. She didn’t want to make him more skittish. So she waited a moment as questions rose in his mind.

“The waking world is unlike the horrid worlds of your mind,” she explained quietly. “I swear to you, I would not mislead you. I will keep you safe as best I can. Taking you to somewhere dangerous is the last thing I wish for.”

As he curled up, Farah’s heart broke for him. She gently rested her hand on his arm, giving him time to accommodate the feel of her touch before rubbing his back gently. “It’s alright. I will protect you, Phalakros. Your misery pains me deeply. I only want to help you, if you will allow me to do so.”

Phalakros eyed her warily when she mentioned she was a mind fairy, but he’d never heard of one, so likely neither has his Alter-Ego.

“Truly?”he asked quietly.

She stayed still for him, letting him observe her at his leisure. That was definitely not something the Alter-Ego would’ve done. It would’ve tried to manipulate him, soothe him, or otherwise convince him that it was no threat. This… Farah… She was not the Alter-Ego. He knew that for certain now.

“You sound like Lucitius…”he breathed, a hopeful hint coming into his voice.

He flinched at her touch, but he slowly calmed. Then, when she started to rub his back, the tension there finally started to subside. At her words, he cautiously nodded. It was a risk, in case Farah wasn’t actually Farah, but he needed out. He was utterly desperate for escape. And, Farah was currently the best option he had.

Farah smiled reassuringly. Her peepers even shone briefly with pooling tears for this poor man who had been so manipulated and used. She knew what it was like. At a time, she had been that way too without even realizing it. But those memories had resurfaced recently, and as much as Farah was struggling to pin them back down, she tried even harder to do so for Phalakros' sake.

"Yes," she answered. "Of course."

Whatever Phalakros saw in her that proved she was not another imaginative darkness from his skull control, Farah was glad for it. Her words were true, and he was beginning to see that. How horribly had he been deceived before to have the intense need to validate another person? She didn't want to know.

The fairy was unaware of who Lucitius was, but she could tell but the emerging hopeful tone in his words that it was a good thing to sound like him.

Farah noticed his flinch and easily adjusted. She knew the touch would be startling at first, but that was why she paused to let him accommodate it.

His nod filled her with relief, and her peepers changed color once again. Immediately, she began battling away the darkness of Phalakros' mind. Her magic was weaker than it normally was, and using it so excessively in her current state was only going to drain her more. But she didn't care – Farah needed to free this tortured man from his mind. It was a brutal yet delicate process as she backtracked the wickedness of the dream to find the light of reality subscription service. When she did, the result was instant.

The headmistress gasped and came back into her body with a start. The Winx girls all quickly backed up to give her space.

"Miss Dowling?" Bloom asked.

Farah was too distracted by looking around for Phalakros to answer for the moment.

“Yet… h… how…”Phalakros trailed off, realizing that Farah was right, but not quite. Yes, he was dreaming, but not just any dream. It was a nightmare. One he’d had many, many times since that horrible incident that had created the Alter-Ego.

“Dream from nightmare. Nightmare from high-res hallucination. high-res hallucination from dream. The cycle continues even now,”he mumbled, whimpering.

He appreciated her pause, and found yet another clue that Farah was not the Alter-Ego. It wouldn’t have paused. It wouldn’t have acknowledged his boundaries or his flinch. It also wouldn’t have kept up the guise for long. Once touching him, the Alter-Ego couldn’t resist the urge to overtake him. It was instinct for it. The innate need to consume and assimilate. To spread itself like a disease.

Phalakros watched as her peepers changed color again, cautious but curious. Then, the battle began and Phalakros immediately curled into a ball, whimpering as Farah’s attacks provoked the Alter-Ego. Tar and darkness blocked their entire way, threatening to swallow them whole. Phalakros even started screaming and whimpering, though he didn’t even realize it. At one point, the Alter-Ego appeared in-person and tried to scratch Farah, but the pair moved past it before it could reach her.

As they emerged from the pool of tar and into Phalakros’ original sanctuary in the dream, their surroundings blurred into nothingness. Then, Phalakros woke just as Farah returned to her body.

He burst awake with a gasp, teleporting a few groundhands away from Farah. His arms instinctively curled defensively around himself, and small whimpers escaped him. He then looked around, realizing where he was. It was daylight, outside, near a cliff of some world he did not know. People were close. Locking wary peepers on the group, he slowly recognized each one, recalling that they had all helped banish… it. Though, Farah was the one he knew best, so she was the only one he was willing to trust. But…

“You… You have healed. Yet… your… your wounds…”he gasped quietly, warily.